


Of Catsitting and Demon Sacrifices

by zombiegardener



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Crack, Demonic Sacrifice, Gen, how do smith & wesson not have a tag?, poor kitties, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:05:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8199344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiegardener/pseuds/zombiegardener
Summary: Alston agreed to catsit for Smith & Wesson. He has so many regrets.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This "fic" takes place during Stars & Stripes when Alston agreed to catsit for Ty. He never expected this.

**Day 1**

Special Agent Scott Alston bounded up the steps to Special Agent Ty Grady’s row house on Anne Street. Sure, he’d heard stories, but they were only cats. Garrett had to be exaggerating. Besides, this was a prime opportunity to go through Grady’s stuff for possible blackmail material. Maybe he could even find an answer to the question of how he and Garrett were managing to live together without murdering each other. Personally, he favored theories involving demonic sacrifice and a dark altar in the basement. It was only in the best interests of humanity that he investigate.

Still, he opened the door slowly and took a cautious look around before stepping over the threshold. There was always the chance that Grady had set up booby traps and a hidden camera again. However, everything was quiet and as meticulously neat as only someone with Grady’s OCD could make it. 

Emboldened by the continued quiet, he walked as softly as humanly possible to the kitchen. Still nothing. Taking a deep breath, he poured cat food from the container on the counter into the empty bowl, refilled the water, and checked the litterbox.

Still nothing.

Piece of cake, he decided as he made his way back out the door. Garrett was a total wuss. He couldn’t wait to tell him that when he got back from Texas.

**Day 2**

Alston bounded up the steps, anxious to take care of Grady’s invisible and probably completely harmless cats so he could make it to the bar before the first pitch. There was a cute new bartender who was a huge Orioles fan, and he had plans for the rest of the night. He doubted he’d see the cats anyway. They were probably wary of people. Cats were like that, weren’t they?

Turning the key in the lock, he hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the food bowl off the floor. That’s when he heard a soft growl emanating from the dark stairs behind him.

Frowning, Alston turned his head with a bright smile fixed firmly in place. “Hey, kitty, it’s okay. I’m just here to-“ The words deserted him as he took in the huge cat lurking on the bottom step. He could swear the cat was glaring at him. The growl increased in volume.

“Okay, okay,” Alston tried in a placating voice. Probably he was just hungry, and maybe nervous around strangers. “Hungry, are you? Here you go!” With a manic sort of cheer, he deposited the full food dish on the floor near the steps. 

The cat arched up and hissed, swelling to nearly twice his normal size. Alston jumped and back away, waving his hands once more. He’d filled the water dish and emptied the litter box yesterday. They were still fine, right? How much water could two cats go through in one day? Even if one of said cats currently looked like he could be a stunt double for a puma? Besides, keeping his eyes on the cat was just good sense. Nervous cats could be twitchy. It wasn’t a sign of weakness. Particularly if no one knew. Right? Right.

**Day 3**

Alston held his breath as he made his way to the kitchen, but the stairs remained free of hissing, crazed demon cat. Taking a deep breath, he scooped the litter box and filled the water dish. He was reaching for the food when he heard it. 

Whirling around, he saw the cat. It was in the living room between him and the front door. Watching him. And not growling. 

Trying to keep his movements contained, Alston slowly turned his head. The cat from yesterday was back on the stairs. As he met its eyes, the growl increased in volume. 

Holding his breath, he dumped food in the dish and backed towards the door, trying to keep both cats in his line of sight. The second cat continued to watch him as the first cat attacked the food dish, not turning away until he stepped over the threshold. Alston slammed the door behind himself and leaned against it, letting the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding out in a fast exhale.

**Day 4**

Alston paused on the steps and placed one hand on the hilt of the gun resting comfortably in his shoulder holster. For a longer moment than he’d ever admit he considered drawing it. Or calling for backup. Or possibly both. Finally, reluctantly, he removed his hand and took a deep breath. He could do this. He was a trained professional. Besides, so far all the cats had done was growl and glare. He saw worse than that the last time he went home for a long weekend.

Steeling himself, he turned the key in the lock.

They were waiting for him in the kitchen. Both of them. As soon as he crossed the threshold, both cats arched up with an evil-sounding hiss. Alston jumped before he could stop himself, then took a moment to send Garrett a silent apology. No way was he teasing him when he got home. He wasn’t speaking of this again. Ever. And he was definitely putting his money in the “demonic sacrifice” betting pool at work on Monday. Did it count as insider information if he had definitive proof?

He edged his way into the kitchen and grabbed the bowl of food. One of the cats hissed again and lunged for him, catching the backs of his fingers with its claws. Alston yelped before he could stop himself. He briefly considered making a dash for the stairs, but the irrational part of his mind remained convinced that’s exactly what the cats wanted. He’d be trapped up there. No way in hell. He’d just grab the food, leave it by the door, and hope for the best.

He grabbed the bag of food and filled the dish as he backed towards the door, trying to ignore the two cats stalking towards him, tails twitching, possibly spurred on by the scent of his blood. Or his fear. Did cats smell fear? Or was that just dogs? And what the hell did it matter anyway? These weren’t cats. They were obviously demons masquerading as cats.

Moving more slowly than he thought possible, he set the dish down and bolted out the door. 

**Day 5**

Alston slammed the door open, grabbing the bag of food and filling the dish in one quick motion, congratulating himself on his quick thinking the day before. He was just about to make a strategic retreat when he saw it.

One of the demon cats was in the kitchen next to the water dish. The empty water dish. And the cat was looking pathetic.

Or maybe it was just a ruse to lure him in. Probably they didn’t drink water anyway. Maybe they needed a source of fresh blood.

The thought made him roll his eyes. He was starting to sound like Garrett. Steeling himself, he closed the door and cautiously walked towards the kitchen. He filled the water without incident, and, emboldened, emptied the litter box. The cat ignored him and drank the water, only issuing a soft warning growl.

He was just heading towards the door when the other cat attacked, darting across the room and latching on to his leg. Shouting curses, Alston pried him off and ran, shaking his leg to make sure it was still firmly attached. Grady so owed him for this. They were going to have a talk when he got back from wherever the hell he went when he pretended to be in D.C. They were past any case-related favors and moving into “get rid of the body with no questions asked” territory. 

**Day 6**

No way in hell was he entering that house. He was filling the food dish and bolting. 

He kept repeating the words to himself like a mantra as he opened the door. 

Both cats were waiting, sitting still as statues guarding the kitchen. Alston gave them a tight smile and slowly moved his hand to his jacket pocket. Fine, if that’s the way they wanted to play it. He had a backup plan. Still moving slowly, he held up the two catnip-stuffed mouse toys and shook them so the little bells jingled. Identical pairs of luminous eyes tracked the movements. Shaking them harder for good measure, Alston tossed them as hard as he could in the direction of the kitchen. Both cats took off at a sprint after the toys. While they were distracted, he filled the food and slammed the door behind him.

Thank god that had worked. His back up tranquilizer plan would have been hard to explain to Grady.

**Day 7**

There was a note attached to the front door, and it was addressed to him.

Alston frowned and pulled off the envelope. That was weird, but maybe the cats had taken one of the neighbors hostage and were now leaving him ransom demands. He wouldn’t put it past them.

He tore open the paper, eyes widening as they followed the elegant script.

_Special Agent Alston,_

_Thank you for taking care of my cats while Agent Grady was away. I’m sure you’ll be grateful to learn that I’ve come to retrieve them, so your services are no longer required._

There was no signature, but Alston didn’t care. No way was he going back into the house to check. Obviously the Demon Master had come to collect his minions, Grady owed him one hell of a favor, and the Orioles were leading the Yankees 2 games to 1 this series. Anything was possible for the rest of the night. His face broke out in a huge smile as he turned and practically danced towards his car.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first Cut & Run fic. I wrote it for a Christmas challenge ages ago and forgot about it. I don't know why I thought of it today, but apparently I did. I'm sorry?


End file.
